


Limbo

by 12anon



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Coma, F/F, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Injured Emily Prentiss, Lesbian Emily Prentiss, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:55:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29638428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/12anon/pseuds/12anon
Summary: Emily Prentiss is stuck fighting for her life as she reflects on her life and relationships.
Relationships: Jennifer "JJ" Jareau/Emily Prentiss
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	Limbo

**Author's Note:**

> hey! this is my first work here, so sorry about the quality. i've never really written fanfiction before

It was all a blissful numbness. A nothingness. Not a worry or a thought.

Of who she was. Of what had happened.

Until she came plummeting back. Her soul finally remembering the prison of a broken body.

The agony, a thousand ceaseless explosions of pain racking her body for an endless eternity.

That wasn’t the worse part.

It was the helplessness. The inability to open her mouth. To scream for help, to beg for it. To even force her eyes open. Her body had been forged in lead.

The frantic sounds of beeping, the hushed echoing of a collage of voices, building into a grand crescendo. A symphony drawing her being closer to… something. About to breach the waters of a rolling and crashing sea, to a world beyond this dreamlike state.

Then, as if nothing had changed, she returned to the abyss. The nothingness.

Time was endless. Meaningless.

Again, she would fall back. To her body. To the pain.

But never for long.

Never long enough to escape this state.

She had time to think. More than enough time.

Remembering the mistakes, the guilt of the past. Remembering the ugly truth of who she was.

Emily Prentiss. Troubled daughter of an Ambassador. Outcast. Murdered her own child at fifteen. Unable to make it in the real world without her mother’s crutch. Well, until Lauren Reynolds.

Lauren Reynolds. Cruel, conniving weapon’s dealer. An undercover agent taking down the notorious Ian Doyle. Until she died, bringing the lives of far too many people down with her.

Emily Prentiss, again. Facing the world’s worse without batting an eye. Reckless, secretive.

The BAU, her closest friends. Her family. The warmth of friendly banter and nights out at bars were a balm to her soul.

Then there was JJ.

She was a protective blanket that she could wrap herself in, pleasant memories of feeling love and being loved filling her head. Until it was torn away.

Emily Prentiss died. Killed by Doyle. Hidden away in the shadows. To never be seen. Betraying the trust of her family.

Emily Prentiss never really came back. Still half-hidden in the shadows.

Now? She wasn’t sure. Emily Prentiss left, again. On her terms. Now, she was a leader. Or, at least, a mime. Mimicking the actions of one.

She never was a real leader. Never would be.

Something had happened. Something had gone wrong.

Was it a case? An undercover operation?

The memories came in jumbles, tangled among one another in a mess of strings unfolding into the tapestry of her life.

Eventually, it all came back.

Every single horrifying, gut-wrenching detail.

The unsub was cornered. The detonator in one hand, hostage in another.

Her team. Her real team, the BAU, at her side.

Erratic, the unsub was inconsolable. She had failed. Failed to get him to back down.

Then, the explosion.

The screams of pain. Of true agony. The screams of dying people.

The screams of her family. And the screams of a lover.

Morgan. Hotch. Rossi. Reid. Garcia.

Was that what was waiting for her?

Had they already moved on? To whatever was waiting beyond this life?

Was the fleeting chance of a life with JJ ripped away again? Was she now buried somewhere, six feet under?

Even if they weren’t dead. They were still gone. Changed. Husks of the noble souls they once were. They cared so much. Too much to be okay after this.

After what she did.

Why was she stuck in this limbo? Was it a punishment for her many sins?

Stuck with only her thoughts and the occasional, brief respite of pain.

There were worst fates.

Maybe there was a lesson to be learned, hidden in her memories. Some grand euphony. And then she would be released from this prison.

Perhaps. Until then, she could just exist in nothingness.

She was in no rush, after all.

Emily’s body was so frail and broken. A patchwork of tubing ad wires connecting her to IVs and machines. Keeping her alive. Puppet strings imprisoning her.

JJ gently brushed a strand of hair aside as she stroked Emily’s forehead with a thumb.

It had been too long. Months. Six never-ending, torturous months.

They were all hopeful at first. Emily had shown signs of waking. Brain activity spiking and monitors announcing her return to this world.

She never did. Maybe she never would.

The unsub and victim had died at the scene, saved from the pain of living.

Hotch had quit, opting to become the father Jack deserved.

Rossi retired, unable to keep up with the fieldwork. Haunted by pains of a phantom limb.

Reid stayed, his skin now marred by puckered, angry red scars. Changed, quieter. Lost.

Morgan fought, he fought the grim diagnosis. And he won, regaining use of his legs. For Emily, was what he said. For Emily.

Garcia escaped the blast. Safe in her fortress of tech. The light had vanished though. No longer a beacon of hope, an extinguished candle. Tired of the suffering that danced across her screens every day.

JJ was spared the worse of it, shielded by Emily’s body. Protected by her sacrifice.

Now, she sat at Emily’s side. Whispering sweet nothings. Empty promises.

A vigil for the dead.

And she would daydream. Of a life with Emily, waking up at her side every morning. Of domestic bliss with her sons.

Grasping at the last glimpses of hope, her hands an iron fist, trying to stop it from slipping away.

JJ wasn’t strong enough. Couldn’t hold on long enough.

Emily Prentiss would die. Taken off life support.

She would have wanted it that way. In hushed whispers under the cover of darkness, she had told JJ that she didn’t want to go out like this. Stuck in a hospice. A mere image of who she once was.

JJ had avoided it. For so long. Holding tight.

It was time though. Time to let go. To allow Emily to discover what was beyond all this.

The team, a family, had gathered around Emily’s bed. Exchanging tales. Grieving for someone still alive. At least, for now.

JJ had brushed Emily’s hair, gave her a gentle sponge bath. Preparing her for this.

She looked peaceful. The puppet strings snipped away, one by one. As if she was merely asleep.

Then, it came to the ventilator. Breathing life into her body.

When it went, Emily didn’t fight. Her chest stilled. The beat of her heart ceasing.

And she left this world. Soundlessly.

It felt wrong. JJ wanted to yell or scream. Beg for Emily to fight, to take a breath, and keep going.

Someone like Emily Prentiss, an FBI agent, a friend, a lover, a pillar of strength of knowledge; shouldn’t go out like this.

Maybe in a blaze of glory. Or after a long, fulfilling life.

A white sheet was draped over her. A note of finality.

Emily Prentiss was dead.

And JJ was alone.


End file.
